


making of a king

by kaiohtic



Series: making of a king [1]
Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Genderbending, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, female!luhan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiohtic/pseuds/kaiohtic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>crown prince jongin needs to take responsibility for his actions to become a great king and what better way is there, than getting married to a commoner, or, even better, a dirt poor beggar, to boost the royal family’s popularity?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://universexo.livejournal.com/profile)[universexo](http://universexo.livejournal.com/) fic exchange  
>  **warnings:** fem!luhan, modern royal!au (Korean society depicted here is not the one existing)  
> 

“Wow. I thought those became extinct.”

“Prince Jongin, please watch your words.” Luhan sounds scandalized, but the Prince just rolls his eyes.

“Please, Luhan, don’t be so formal. We’re friends. It’s just Jongin for you.”

“You’re still of royalty, My Prince, and I am not. Please don’t make me remind you all the time,” Luhan retorts, her voice not showing how tired she must be, leading the same discussion over and over again. Though, maybe it’s just Jongin being tired of this.

“Please accept that you are of a higher rank, _Your Royalty_ ,” she adds, highlighting his title only to further annoy him.

_And is that why you think I would be too good for you?_ , lies on the tip of his tongue, but he gulps it down. Oh, how much Jongin hates Luhan’s newfound attitude and with it her new perspectives on life and everything else. Jongin has never liked how Luhan keeps her distance by addressing him so formally. Not even once has she treated him like the childhood friends they were ever since she came back from her studies abroad.

Jongin and Luhan practically grew up together; the tanned male clinging on to his beloved _noona_ whenever she came to visit him in the too big Royal Mansion. Traditionally, the Royal Family would have to live in Gyeongbok Palace, but with time the buildings were deemed not modern and comfortable enough for people of their ranks, and so the Palace is now a mere monument and sign of the country’s royalty and all its past glory. Sometimes ceremonies are held there, but apart from public demonstrations on certain occasions, the Palace remains as tourist attraction only now.

Jongin remembers the first time they met was there, at the Royal Palace, on his father’s, the King’s 35th birthday. Luhan had worn a colorful hanbok, but despite her classy appearance, she ran around freely, just as any of the children did. What captured him though, was her more than bright smile and her eyes, curious and challenging. It was then Jongin decided that if he had to choose his queen - like his mother had told him so often, God bless her deceased soul – he would choose Luhan. Jongin was only seven years old at that time, but his mind didn't change even once, at least not when concerning this matter, in all the years to follow.

Jongin had missed the Chinese girl a lot during those four, five years she spent in Beijing. Not even once did Luhan come back for vacation, and the only thing he got were a few e-mails and even rarer calls and skype sessions. She was too busy studying and keeping up her good grades. And when Luhan came back, she wasn’t the lovely girl, bursting with youthful mischief and mirth anymore. She had matured, becoming more beautiful if possible, but unfortunately politically over-correct like her minister father and too polite, stiff even, to an extent Jongin felt alienated at first. On occasion though, he still got a taste of her bluntness. After all, one couldn’t fight one’s own nature. And when he thinks of all the circumstances, considering his own status as Crown Prince, she is more than perfect: outwardly a role model, while with him, she would be herself. That is all Jongin needs.

Unfortunately, all his dreams were shattered into pieces when he noticed the ring on her finger. Luhan was engaged, and Jongin only realized when he met both Luhan and her fiancé, a month after her return. And the worst thing is that the fiancé was not some unknown stranger, but one of Jongin’s cousins, the pride of Uncle Junmyeon, his father’s younger brother. Rumors say the public prefers him over Jongin, the Crown Prince, because he is seemingly more capable, more diligent, more intelligent. At the age of twenty, Jongdae had already earned himself degrees in philosophy and international relations, and now he was taking his career even further. Jongdae had been sent to Seoul. _To support Prince Jongin, once he is taking over the reign_ , Uncle Junmyeon had said with a smile. Jongin could see how much his uncle tried to fight off the urge to ruffle the Crown Prince’s hair. It would be an inacceptable act, now that Jongin was not a cute, little child but a nearly grown up, nearing his eighteenth birthday.

 

 

“You have been close friends before,” Jongdae interjects then, knowing exactly why Jongin is so upset. He agrees with Luhan though, an arm slung around her slim waist as he walks close to her, Jongin on her other side. “But since we are in public now, you should watch your words, Prince Jongin.”

If Jongin had been thankful for the first comment, he couldn’t be any more displeased with the second one. Of course Jongdae is just as overcorrect as Luhan is. It probably rubbed off on her because she spent too much time together with him in Beijing. Sometimes Jongin wonders if Luhan had been busy with studies or if she had been busy going out with his cousin. It’s a fact Jongin refuses to accept, even now, with their wedding just a few weeks back, as he is still pacing around his room sometimes, restless, with the red circled date on his desk calendar still screaming at him. He has yet to turn to the next month.

And maybe it is because he has chosen to refuse to do anything that comes from those two, that he doesn’t listen and walks straight up to the person who has piqued his interest during one of their rare walks into town, the one he has meant with his comment on extinction. No, not an animal was meant, but a human being. The one and only and probably last beggar in South Korea. And they should really not exist, when the government has spent so much money on welfare.

“You’re an eyesore to our beautiful capital. I didn’t know we still had people like you here. Leave and stop uglifying our beautiful country.”

Both Luhan and Jongdae are flanking his sides immediately, trying to pull him away, but the deed is done. There is a ruckus, as people focus on them, coming closer to watch the scene.

The boy in front of them is filthy. His clothes are ragged, barely appropriate to walk around in. His hair is too long and strawy, tangled in knots. And the smell! Jongin wrinkles his nose. While he has seen beggars on his various travels around the world, he has always been proud of his nation for being clean and modern, nice and chic, always presentable to the whole world to see, yet he has found a flaw in his perfect world.

“You’re joking, Prince Jongin,” Jongdae says with a forced smile. “You actually want to help, right?”

If his cousin thinks Jongin will do what he expects, he is utterly wrong.

“Help? There’s no way to help someone like that,” he says, laughing right into the other’s face. He knows that beggar must be stupid, maybe mental, because who in their right mind would choose to live on the streets when there were places built and operated for orphans and the homeless?

Jongin watches the boy’s reaction with some sort of fascination. The boy is clenching his fists and gulping, obviously agitated by the Prince’s actions, yet he doesn’t make a move. Jongin wants to provoke him more, letting out all of his pent up frustration, because he can’t possible hurt Luhan or Jongdae or any of his fellowmen and women. But this is not one of his people. Jongin refuses to see an outcast as part of this society, someone who chose to oppose the Crown and its good deeds, part of this country, of the group of people he has to love and protect, and so Jongin has no shame calling the other out as ugly and a shame to the proud nation of South Korea. Only when he is met with silence, the people around him not laughing along to his jokes but staring at him incredulously, does he stop and turn around. He flees the scene with hurried steps, Jongdae and Luhan following close up. He has messed up.

 

 

“Jongin!”

The moment he enters the auditorium, the Prince knows he is doomed. The King, usually cool and composed, shows clear signs of agitation. He has been pacing, advisors and subordinates standing in the too big room, watching and simultaneously praying for the Prince to show up as soon as possible.

Jongin has never seen his father this upset, disappointment clear in his eyes. The King stops in his tracks when the door opens, lips set into a grim line. “I demand an explanation.”

A servant hands the Prince a tablet and, of course, someone has recorded the whole scene. It happened not even an hour ago, yet the article has been published already. Jongin bites his lips, scrolling down to read how the journalist depicts him as arrogant, noisy, biased, and superficial, a bully and no match for the throne. The article concludes with a simple demand for Jongdae to be crowned instead.

Gulping, Jongin hands the device over to the servant and stares down to his feet, not daring to meet his father’s eyes. He knows he has been wrong to pick on someone weaker, that beggar to be exact, but at that time he just needed someone to vent all his anger out. And who was more suited to be picked on than the boy he had seen there? Also, it was his first time acting out of line. Ever. Couldn’t the public just turn a blind eye on it?

“How are you going to fix this?” The King’s voice is loud in the silence, startling a sulking Jongin, who knows better than to argue.

“I will apologize publicly. Please set up a press conference and I will take care of this matter, Father,” he replies meekly.

The King shakes his head. “A simple apology is never enough. You are bringing down the Crown’s reputation. You, my son, are soon coming of age, yet your actions are irresponsible. There is only one thing that makes a man mature, and that is getting married and taking responsibility for your family. Only a good husband and father can govern a country.”

“Yes, Father.”

The thought of getting married has never crossed Jongin’s mind ever after Luhan came back with Jongdae by her side, because he can’t picture anyone else but her next to him. Yet, Jongin knows that for Royals it is difficult to get together with their loves, when all their moves are watched and discussed throughout the nation. It is not uncommon to marry just for the purpose of representation, when the public deems a different person better, so often it is advisors and policy makers who choose a marriage partner for the highest in hierarchy.

The door is opened again and where Jongin has gracefully entered the room before, a lanky boy is stumbling inside, royal guards flanking his sides. Jongin turns around and meets sharp almond eyes with dark orbs boring into his. There is a rebellious trait in those features, but the boy’s shoulders slump down quickly, giving up any resistance. It takes a second, but Jongin recognizes him as the beggar he insulted before and a wave of shame floods him. He nods politely, mouthing a small sorry, before turning his attention back to his father and what he has to say.

The King though, doesn’t continue to pay Jongin much attention. Instead, he eyes their guest, motioning the guards to bring the boy over. The dirty beggar is standing in front of the King now. He is trying to go down onto his knees, but the King doesn’t let him. The guards make him stay in place, until the King approaches him and puts his hands on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing them. “What is your name?”

“Oh Sehun.”

“From now on, your title is Prince Oh Sehun, Crown Prince Jongin’s fiancé.”

The room stays silent. Jongin is the first one to react.

“E-Excuse me?” The Prince stutters, expecting anything but this, while the other boy just keeps quiet and nods. Jongin is furious, wondering why he is not opposed to this idea, until he remembers how dirt poor the other is. Of course, being engaged and then married to the Crown Prince of South Korea will mean a life in luxury and bliss, and it makes Jongin despise the boy even more. Sehun was his name? If Jongin can’t cancel these plans, he will make sure to make gold digger Sehun’s life not all too easy.

“You heard me,” the King’s voice sounds through the room, quiet, but authoritarian. There is no room for discussions. “Treat your fiancé like he deserves it. If I ever come upon complaints, you know what will happen.”

Jongin nods, gulping down the harsh comment sitting heavily on his tongue. He glares at Sehun, who doesn’t spare him a glance, not even when he is lead outside, passing Jongin with his gaze firmly kept on the floor instead. The Prince knows he has brought himself into this situation, yet he can’t understand why it is like this. A minor mistake, a minor slip, and now he has to face these consequences. It doesn’t feel quite fair when it is the first time he has done anything that could be criticized by the public.

“Father,” he pleads, keeping his tone low and humble. “Does he even agree to this? I’m sure he despises me after all of this, so he won’t want to-“

A single hand gesture from his father makes Jongin shut up. The King doesn’t need to speak and Jongin understands that the discussion is over already. There is nothing that can change the King’s mind now, and so the boy can only retreat with a bow, tears of frustration threatening to spill.

 

 

This doesn’t mean Jongin won’t try to get out of this engagement though. He still has enough fighting spirit to try finding a way out of this. His father’s reasoning that he has to make up for his minor mistake by marrying that kid is ridiculous. Jongin will tell the boy to oppose. Because in this situation, surprisingly, the beggar’s opinion is worth more when the whole public was on that lanky kid’s side.

“Where is he?” Jongin asks a servant passing by, but he gets no reply. Before the girl can speak up, Jongdae appears and waves her off.

“Where is he?” Jongin asks again, this time directing his question to his cousin who seems to know more. Jongdae, despite being shorter and less athletic than the Crown Prince, doesn’t even blink. He seems to be more annoyed, sighing like a parent who has to clean up the child’s mess.

“What are you going to do when you know?”

“Talking him into breaking off this engagement. It’s ridiculous. I’m sure he doesn’t want it either.” Jongin could marry anyone else, just to show how responsible he could be, as a caring husband and later, a loving father. He wants to marry a beautiful woman, gentle, yet full of temperament. If it wasn’t Luhan, than any other girl could do. With Sehun though, clearly a husband, how could he prove to be a good father? And how was he supposed to keep the blood line?

Jongdae heaves another sigh. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but that will be impossible. This is not a matter of you and Sehun wanting or not. It’s the Crown’s matter now and if the Royal Family’s reputation is at stake, every party involved will have to follow. No matter what you say or do, Sehun will most likely follow the King’s instructions. Don’t try to do funny things, Jongin. It’s your own fault for not filtering your mouth like you have been told so often.”

“You mean he has been threatened or bribed?”

Jongdae gives him an incredulous look. “Watch your mouth. You’re not making it any better, Prince Jongin. You should better listen to your future advisor. I wasn’t chosen for this position for no reason.”

And with that, Jongin is left in the hallway, all etiquette forgotten, as the clearly lower ranked one walks away without any greetings or Jongin’s sign of dismissal.

 

 

Jongin doesn’t have to search for too long, the smell hitting his nose before he spots the boy sitting on his bed. Upon entering, the boy gets up. Still, it doesn’t take away any of Jongin’s anger. He has been wronged today and with the filthy beggar staying in his room, he feels his privacy and human rights being violated.

“Leave,” Jongin hisses through his teeth, glaring daggers at the other boy. Now that they are face to face, staring at each other, Jongin realizes that the boy is as tall as him, maybe even taller by a centimeter. And despite his disheveled hair, dust and dirt smudged across his face and ragged clothes, appearance so poor and filthy, his eyes are a beautiful deep brown, full of energy and temperament. The gaze he gets is intense and Jongin half expects to be hit or insulted, but the boy only clenches his hands into fists. He bows lightly, and walks past him. Jongin releases a breath he doesn’t know he has been holding when the boy has left; the awaited punch not executed.

Seconds after the door is closed, the Prince calls for a maid, face scrunched up in disgust as he tells her to replace his sheets and blankets with new ones. They are crinkled and he can see dirt clinging to where that boy had been sitting. Jongin gets a half curious, half knowing look, wondering what the servant is thinking to grin like that. He doesn’t really want to know though, the only thought on his mind right now is for his bed to be germ-free. Maybe he should ask for the whole room to be disinfected as well.

After the maid leaves, there is a knock on the door. Jongin turns around from his desk, ready to yell at whoever is entering without permission and disturbing his brainstorming. He has been doodling on a paper, trying to figure out what options he has, calculating the best possible way out, but when he sees that it is just Luhan, Jongin relaxes in an instant. It feels nostalgic, Luhan coming over to visit, regardless of customs, norms and conventions. Except for servants and the Queen, no female is allowed to enter the Crown Prince’s private refugee on her own, especially when he is present, and ever since her engagement, Luhan has been strictly following that rule. This time though, Jongin can sense that it’s not a casual visit like how it was like years back.

“How are you feeling?” Luhan asks, stepping closer with a tray in her hands. She must have gotten it from a servant, waving her off to bring the Prince some tea.

“Like shit,” Jongin replies, ever so frankly. He doesn’t get scolded though, only a sigh at his use of profanity, but it’s enough to make him mumble a small apology. After all, it’s Luhan, and Jongin wants to do things right for her. Unfortunately though, Luhan doesn’t seem to have the same sentiment, as she shares her honest thoughts, not considering his point of view at all.

“It’s your own fault though, Jongin,” she says and sets down the tray, pouring tea into a cup. Jongin takes it, thanking her without a smile. He takes a cautious sip and watches Luhan pour herself another cup, waiting for her to elaborate further. If she is giving him the same preach he has just heard from Jongdae though, he will cut her off.

“I know it’s difficult for you, but being the Crown Prince means you bear so much more responsibilities. You are the future of this nation and even now you are a representative of this country. What will the international community think of you showcasing our country’s culture and people as haughty and shallow?”

Jongin plays with his cup, staring at the tea gently swapping from side to side, a few drops spilling onto the expensive carpet.

“Our country has never been a good welfare state if we look back in history, but we have achieved a lot in the last decades. Don’t make our reputation sink because of your actions. Be a role model for our people.”

Basically, Jongin thinks, Luhan is telling him the same as his cousin did just moments ago, only in a longer form, and so he blends out her constant talking. It’s not what he wants to hear right now. In this moment he just wants people to pity him for being forced into marriage with a stranger, a dirt poor one at that who was probably taking this opportunity only to enrich himself. Jongin pouts, feeling more and more miserable with every second, drowning in self-pity, until there is a loud knock at the door. Before Jongin can tell the person on the other side not to come in, the door is opened already.

The first thing Jongin notices is the ivory skin, too pale to be a healthy human, and for a second, the Prince thinks about the possibility of the King replacing servants with exquisite, porcelain doll like robots one by one. The next thing he sees is how bony the boy is, skin stretched taut over joints and bones. His eyes wander up and their gazes meet.

Luhan sounds surprised when she says _Sehun_ and in that same moment Jongin realizes the boy in front of him is the filthy beggar the guards picked up and the King made him marry. His look hardens again, when before there was something akin to admiration simmering in his eyes. Sehun doesn’t budge. His eyes are still staring back, almost lifelessly. It’s quite a contrast to the look he had been given before.

“You’re quite handsome,” Luhan remarks and smiles. Sehun seems taken aback and drops his head, staring at his feet now. Jongin just rolls his eyes.

“Once cleaned and properly dressed, sometimes even the dirtiest of people can look handsome,” he says. “Anyone dressed in royal fabrics will look good, no matter how dirty and ugly before.”

As the words leave his mouth, he realizes he shouldn’t have said that.

“Kim Jongin, I do not know you,” Luhan says after a gasp. “You’re childish and bratty. Grow up and take responsibility for your actions.”

With that, she strides towards Sehun, taking him by the elbow to lead him outside. Jongin’s calls fall upon deaf ears as the Chinese girl keeps walking away, a clearly surprised Sehun following, but not protesting. Not even apologies could stop Luhan from leaving and soon, the door closes shut and Jongin finds him himself alone and bitter with no one to console him. The whole world seems to be against him right now.

Sometimes he thinks being a commoner is way better.

 

 

It’s dinner time when Jongin sees Sehun again. They are seated next to each other, facing Jongdae and Luhan. It’s just the four of them, the King too upset to have a meal with his son. Sehun keeps silent, eating very little, despite Luhan and Jongdae ensuring him he could eat as much as he can.

“You’re nothing but bones, Sehun. It’s really a miracle you grew this tall with what little you eat,” Luhan says, a spark of worry in her eyes, which only riles up the sulking Prince. He feels not only wronged but neglected also, when all eyes are on the lowly one between them, less than a commoner.

“How can you be so sure he didn’t get enough food?” Jongin asks.

“Sehun is sitting next to you, why don’t you ask him directly?” The Chinese girl suggests, while Jongdae eyes him suspiciously. The conversation had been awkward and Luhan’s poor attempts at coaxing Sehun to open up were futile. The boy stayed mute, probably for the better, because Jongin’s plan is surely not being nice to the boy who is stealing all of Luhan’s attention. Now that he is nothing more than Luhan’s good friend he doesn’t fancy other people receiving her friendly gestures, least of all strangers. “Who knows what he did for people to feed him?” Jongin smirks, eyeing Sehun up and down.

Luhan and Jongdae both stare at him, a little confused. Before they can guess Jongin’s next words, the insult is already flung at Sehun and the boy is up in a second, slapping the Prince square across the face. There is a sound of glass breaking and porcelain crushing in the background. Sehun rushes past the stunned maid and the room is engulfed in silence.

“You did not just accuse him of illegal activities or selling his body,” Luhan says, dangerous tone to her voice. The next second she is hurrying after Sehun, calling out for his name.

“What?” Jongin asks, uncomfortable under Jongdae’s stare.

“Way to go, Prince Jongin. Very mature,” his soon to be Royal Advisor says, sighs and leaves. Jongin doesn’t feel like eating anymore, when everyone seems to hate him right now, and ends up leaving the dining room as well. All the way up to his room he tells himself that there is nothing wrong with him teasing Sehun like that. It’s just teasing and Sehun takes it too personal.

Of course Jongin can’t fool himself. Part of him feels bad for being intentionally mean when in fact the other boy hasn’t done him anything wrong. They just met at the wrong time and place, when Jongin wasn’t in his right mind, upset, frustrated, and fed up with the world and the people around him. He knows he shouldn’t have vented out his feelings in that way, but after doing it once and tasting how it feels like to be the stronger, more powerful one, he can’t stop it. Being the Crown Prince doesn’t mean freedom. It doesn’t mean he can do anything he pleased, despite being placed on top of the hierarchy.

Also, his pride doesn’t allow him to take back words, and instead of making things better, Jongin rather keeps things this way. It’s not like they have to be a real couple. It’s all just for representation, he reminds himself. Though, if it is just representation, why would his father threaten to punish him if he was to hurt Sehun in private?

 

 

The following day, Jongin wakes up early as usual. People are wrong if they think the Crown Prince is idle all day. Surely, Jongin does have his time of recreation, but most of the time he is in the library, getting lessons on history and politics, economy and law. The more fun lessons, as horse riding, self-defense, piano, violin and dance have been cut short over time, much to Jongin’s distress. Books and readings are definitely not Jongin’s thing, although he has been promoting literature for the younger generation. It’s his job as Crown Prince, their nation’s future leader and role model.

Sighing, Jongin gets up and dressed, washing his face before breakfast is pushed into his room on a small tea-cart. He has yet to face his father and after yesterday’s dinner disaster he is not so sure what will happen. Instead of being called to the King for educational reasons though, he is expected to follow his regular schedules and classes. There is no sign of the King being more enraged than he has been yesterday, so Jongin supposes the incident hasn’t been reported to his father. Yet.

 

 

Again, it’s dinner time when Jongin has to face Sehun again. He doesn’t recognize the boy at first, hair now properly cut and dyed in a warm blonde tone that makes his pale skin stand out even more. With Luhan sitting next to his fiancé, he is stunned to see them equally pretty. Sehun might be even prettier, his lips a darker shade of pink, contrasting stark against his skin, lashes thick and long, framing a pair of eyes with fire in them. It’s the liveliness that has quirked up Jongin’s interest in Luhan, and the fire in Sehun’s eyes intrigues the prince, too. He doesn’t say a word though, forcing away all those thoughts.

The King is joining them for dinner, too, overlooking the whole table. It’s His Majesty who keeps the conversation going, Luhan and Jongdae giving smart replies with a humble tone, whereas Sehun keeps quiet, not replying verbally to any questions directed at him. He only reacts with small gestures, nodding or shaking his head, but that is about all.

“Blonde suits him well, don’t you agree?”

Jongin is pulled out of his thoughts when the question is thrown at him. It pisses him a little off, because he knows his father wants him to compliment Sehun, while he doesn’t want to. What annoys him even more is that it’s true. The boy looks good with this hairstyle, albeit a little cool and inapproachable.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Pretty,” Luhan says, smiling. “If I didn’t have Jongdae, I would date Sehun.”

Jongin’s eyes widen.

“Narcissistic,” Jongdae says. “If you were born a boy, you would be Sehun’s twin.”

The King agrees and the conversation keeps revolving around Sehun, his hidden beauty and his more than likeable personality, according to the couple sitting there. He is smart, thoughtful, sensitive and polite. Jongin would have snickered, because resolving to violence is definitely not polite, but he has to prove to his father that he can be civil to Sehun. Only when his father is not present, he guesses, he can have his fun with riling up the now blonde boy. Especially when it seems like Sehun is no tattler, and that is the only thing Jongin appreciates about the other. Enduring Jongin’s mocking is the least Sehun could do in exchange for a life in luxury and a status unreachable for almost everyone, Jongin thinks, satisfied with his conclusion. It’s good that Sehun knows where he is standing.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Jongin doesn’t see Sehun as often as he expects. They are both living in the palace, but they don’t share a room. Yet. “You are betrothed, but not decently married yet,” Jongdae says and the Prince just rolls his eyes at the usage of old-fashioned expressions.

It is a good thing, he supposes, because not running into Sehun means less stress, less pressure. He doesn’t have to think too much about his fiancé, the wedding plans and the preparations that are already in full swing. Everything is handled by his father and the royal advisors. Nothing much changed in Jongin’s life, despite being engaged already. His daily schedules are the same, except for meals that are always taken with Sehun.

The bad thing about not seeing Sehun is that he has no punching bag for his own frustrations and misery. He obviously can’t let any of those feelings out during meals when his father is present or when servants could see them. Jongin doesn’t want to be punished. He is already quite restricted with his moves. After the Sehun incident, he has been loaded with so much work that he is too tired to go out. A simple trick to make Jongin stay in the palace where unfavorable moments can be covered and will never make it to the public.

Sooner or later though, he would have to run into Sehun. Coincidentally.

 

 

He doesn’t expect it to end up like this though. When their eyes meet, Jongin’s breathe hitches. This is not the Sehun he knows. This is a completely different Sehun.

Under normal circumstances, Jongin would make fun of Sehun’s attire. Although the colorful fabrics are contrasting beautifully against Sehun’s pale skin, the cut is made for women. It is degrading and hilarious to put Sehun into these dresses. Jongin knows that a male’s hanbok looks different; he has worn these far too often.

Jongin opens his mouth, but the laughter dies quickly, as he watches Sehun twirling through the room with a grace that has yet to be seen. It was the soft music that has drawn Jongin’s curiosity in the first place, leading him to the door of a room Jongin has never entered before. His body and mind are yearning for a chance to dance, his most favorite activity, despite the exhaustion and stretch of muscles after hours of practice. The Prince now lacks the time for it when hours of politics and economy classes are deemed more important; and the extra assignments the teachers give him exhaust him to an extent he only wants to sleep after finishing those at one or two in the morning.

Sehun’s lithe frame is floating through the room, hands holding a huge fan each. There are no sharp movements as seen in more modern dancing, every step and gesture is soft and smooth instead. The longer he watches, the more he feels ridiculed how clothing and a different situation could make his impression on a person change.

Jongin tries his best to talk some sense into himself. Just because Sehun is dancing now doesn’t mean he is suddenly alluring and attractive. Just because deep blue, velvet red and luscious pink compliment his skin tone doesn’t mean he is mesmerizing. Still, Jongin’s eyes keep following the other’s form, until Sehun stops in his movements, the dress coming to a rest, too. No more twirling.

The pale boy has his eyes widened, a look of confusion glazing over before he schools his expression into a neutral, polite one. He nods courtly, as if to acknowledge his prince’s presence. Jongin, on the other hand, doesn’t know how to react, still speechless, and when he does react after moments of silent stares, his reaction is immediate flight. He turns away and hurries down the corridor, completely forgetting that he is supposed to go to the library instead of locking himself up in his room.

“Wow,” Jongin says to himself when the door closes behind his back. He doesn’t bother going inside and rest on the sofa or on his bed. He just leans against the door, sliding down until he sits there, face buried in his hands. And suddenly, he starts laughing when the ridiculousness of the situation settles in. Just because Sehun can dance doesn’t make him a better match for the crown prince. A little maybe, but not much. He won’t change his attitude towards the other. Sehun doesn’t deserve any better.

 

 

There are no study hours today for Jongin, as his engagement has been announced to the public. Instead of being stuck with books and terribly old teachers he is sitting in his room, a stylist working on covering all the blemishes and imperfections of his skin. He has been watching Sehun getting his make-up applied earlier. It didn’t take long for the make-up artist. Just a little bit of BB cream, some mascara and eyeliner to accentuate his eyes, then a little hint of gloss to make his lips more luscious and shiny, and then he got an okay. A little, Jongin does envy and admire Sehun’s fine complexion.

The stylists and make-up artists leave once they are finished and Jongdae enters the room afterwards, Luhan following close.

“Remember to be convincing,” Jongdae says strictly. He is staring at Jongin, though the prince thinks he should be directing his words to Sehun. Jongin knows how to play this game. He knows he has to be an actor and deceive the public. All those analysts and advisors working for the Royal Family are employed for one reason: to help the Royals with their built up image and facade. To keep the hierarchy. No one wants a Korea, still on an economic rise, with political instability. It will affect the country on different levels, definitely not for good.

“You should look more tender with Sehun,” Luhan says. “Remember, the public is absolutely okay with couples being total lovebirds. Show them that you care for your fiancé. You remember your story, right?”

Jongin nods. Sehun nods as well.

A while later they find themselves sitting in front of the media. The moment Sehun settles into his seat, Jongin wraps an arm around the other’s surprisingly small waist and pulls him closer. He can hear some excited shouts, so he smiles and decides to keep his hand there. It’s all just for show anyways. Sehun stares at him with wide eyes. A blush would be more convincing.

“Don’t be shy,” Jongin whispers intentionally loud so his voice is registered by the tiny micros attached to their collars, the audience witnessing the lovely act. He leans closer and gives Sehun’s cheek a light peck, meanwhile all the cameras go off and he can hear faint whistles and screams of supportive fans. After all, Jongin is not only a prince, but also a quite attractive one, a celebrity. And Sehun in his white suit looks divine next to him, at least today.

“My Prince,” Sehun says with the hint of a warning undertone only Jongin quite catches. He pays no attention to it though, admiring the pink hue dusting the other’s cheeks instead.

“Jongin,” the prince corrects with a soft voice. “Remember, I don’t like you using titles when you talk to me. It doesn’t matter if we’re in private or in public.”

The audience approves with more whistles and cheers and Jongin looks ahead, grinning widely. It is amazing, he thinks, that the public didn’t criticize him for getting married to a male. On the opposite, Sehun with his delicate face, pretty eyes, small nose and plush lips, could be a girl, too. No wonder the prince fell for him, was the general consensus, and as for the homosexuals in this country, they were more supportive of the Royals than ever. After all, the overly conservative leaders of the country are experiencing a change with Jongin’s bold demand to marry his Sehun.

“Prince Jongin, please tell us how you met?”

And Jongin looks too happy to reply to that question, recounting how one day he decided to go for a walk in town and met with Oh Sehun, a homeless boy, who was just sitting there, telling stories to some neighborhood kids. And under all the dirt and dust, Jongin had seen Sehun’s beauty and fell in love at first sight. But being young and inexperienced as he was, always studying to become a great king later, he failed to leave a good impression and insulted Sehun instead, making a bad impression instead of a good one; the scandal everyone had witnessed.

“Like a silly boy, pranking the girl he likes, pulling at her hair,” Sehun comments with a chuckle, earning himself a light pinch at his cheek.

“You’re not supposed to make fun of me, Hunnie,” Jongin says. “It’s already embarrassing enough to admit that I was only mean to you because I felt overwhelmed by your presence. I didn’t know what to do to gain your attention.”

It goes on like this, Sehun falling into his role and getting more and more convincing, to a point there is no hostility left in him. His eyes are softer now, his smiles more genuine, easily forming on his face, until he is faced with the last question, which turns out to be a request.

“Please kiss,” a bold reporter asks, probably hoping to get a nice picture to accompany his article. Sehun looks taken aback a little and Jongin takes Sehun’s pale hand, lightly pressing his lips against it. “Please wait until our wedding ceremony. I will not kiss him in public until then.”

 

 

Ever since the press conference Jongin has felt an urge to be a little bit nicer to Sehun, be it just by dropping a few polite words. It is difficult and frustrating though, when he is the only civil one, Sehun passing by without a hello or a raised hand as simple greeting. He doesn’t even look at Jongin, eyes always focused on something or someone else.

Dinner is the only time Jongin can actually talk to Sehun, with his father and Luhan and Jongdae being there, but even then the blonde’s replies are court. Jongin can’t explain why lately he has been interested in striking up a conversation with the other, but he guesses it will be awkward to be married and knowing nothing about each other when in the future they will have to be more present as a couple in the media. Sehun is by no way intriguing and he will never be. Jongin is not really interested in him, he keeps telling himself. He just wants a less stressful life.

 

 

Jongin can’t forget the way Sehun dances though, and sometimes, when he is granted a short break, he will slip away to peek inside the room Jongin learned to be Sehun’s private rooms now. Sehun will stay there until they are wedded.

Sometimes Jongin watches in awe as Sehun moves around the room, eyes closed, but confident enough that he won’t crash into the walls or furniture. He doesn’t always wear a hanbok, but when he does, Jongin feels a little better. Sehun’s thin frame is hidden and Jongin imagines a healthier looking boy with a few pounds more on his ribs.

Sometimes Jongin sees Sehun sitting there, paintbrush in his hand. The lines he draws are accurate, copying exactly what the teacher has written before. He is either a natural talent or he must have learned it before. Calligraphy is more difficult than one thinks and Jongin loves the tranquility radiating in soft waves from Sehun’s back.

Sometimes Sehun prepares tea. Next to Sehun dancing it is one of Jongin’s most favorite sights. Sehun’s hands are steady, moving fluently as if exerting a choreography, and even Jongin, who has no broad knowledge on tea ceremonies can see that Sehun has an affinity for the fine, traditional Korean arts. He wonders what the tea tastes like. Is it as bitter, as Sehun’s tone when they occasionally bump into each other? Or is it as sweet as the rare smile that lights up Sehun’s face, one he has only seen when Luhan converses with Sehun or when she tries to teach Sehun some Chinese?

Sometimes Sehun is not in his room. At these times, Jongin feels upset. After all, it takes some time for him to walk there to catch a glimpse of his soon to be husband’s improvement and he doesn’t like to waste time. He is the Crown Prince and his time is worth more than any other person’s.

 

 

Sighing, Jongin walks back. When he rounds the corner, someone crashes into him. Jongin glares, but his expression changes when he sees that it’s Sehun sitting on the ground, blinking. He reaches out a hand to help the other up, but Sehun ignores it, standing up on his own, mumbling a short apology before he hurries away. Jongin shakes his head and heaves a deep breath.

 

 

It’s one of the rare days Jongin is given some free time. Once a month, the Prince is allowed to take his mind off from politics and other important studies to feel less burned out. Despite having one day this month already, Jongin is given another one, now that his wedding draws closer. “To strengthen your bond with Sehun,” Jongdae had told him this morning, while simultaneously fighting Luhan’s persistent hands that tried to feed him.

Jongin had watched the scene with irritation, wondering if the two of them had always been like this, when usually they both would behave and act like the most conservative people in the kingdom. The Prince soon figures out it is with the absence of other people, only the three of them having breakfast together, that the couple dares to display some sort of affection. Or maybe Luhan just wants to show him that he was never good enough, Jongdae her perfect match.

When Jongin makes his way to Sehun’s room later to call him out for a date, some bonding time with his soon to be husband, he wonders what he has been doing wrong to be punished like this. Not only couldn’t he marry the girl of his dreams, but instead he was pushed into a marriage with someone who did not care for him at all. He will never have someone feeding him, someone coming over to his study sessions to check up on him, bring him some snacks and drinks and chatter for a while to lift his mood like Luhan would do for Jongdae. Sehun is not like that. With Sehun it will never be like that. Sehun loathes him and he loathes Sehun.

 

 

“What are you doing here?”

Jongin turns around to see Sehun standing at the door. He looks lovely with the new hair color they have given him. It’s a soft brown and he looks less like an ice prince and more like prince charming, if he wasn’t frowning right now. Jongin pays not much attention though and keeps going through Sehun’s closet. There are quite a lot of fashionable shirts and pants and Jongin is searching for a nice outfit. He has plans and Sehun cannot object.

“Put this on,” he says, throwing a baby blue shirt and white slacks on the bed. If there is a look Sehun should go for, then it is pristine white and light colors. Jongin doesn’t deny that.

“I’m not your puppet,” Sehun replies. His face is a blank, tone neutral when he speaks. He picks up the clothes and walks closer to Jongin, hanging the outfit back into the closet.

“We’re going out together today,” Jongin simply replies. “And you will wear what is deemed suitable to wear.”

“I will wear what I choose to wear. I am your fiancé, not your slave or dress up doll.”

Jongin doesn’t deny it and he actually has no reason to tell Sehun what to wear. It’s not like there are weird pieces of clothing in his wardrobe, chosen by the royal stylists. Still, he has his head and what Jongin wants he needs it to be delivered as soon as possible.

“You’re not born royal. You don’t know what to wear to represent a royal so I will choose for you until one day you are qualified to dress yourself.”

“You know what, Prince Jongin, just go out with yourself. I’m not royal enough to go out in public with. Leave. Now. I need to study.”

Jongin stares with wide eyes. “Are you sulking?”

“Get out. Before my lowly origin shows through.” Sehun raises his fist.

 

 

It’s only with a lot of talking from Luhan and Jongdae’s side later that Sehun agrees to go out. For publicity reasons only, the pale boy has said, and Jongin has agreed. They have gone out for a movie and dinner, walking in the palace gardens, out open in the public, only half-heartedly disguised. Jongin keeps his arm around Sehun’s shoulder and waist, sometimes opting to hold the other’s hand and swing them together.

Jongin thinks it can be called a decent date with Sehun showing his rare smiles several times that day.

 

 

They could have had a traditional wedding, but the only traditional thing about this marriage is Sehun’s outfit, but not really. Jongin is not quite sure how they could have convinced the boy to wear a wedding dress, the cut faintly reminding of hanboks. Jongin only knows that he is completely stunned when the boy is lead to the altar, Jongin already waiting there. If a white suit makes Sehun look divine, Sehun in a wide dress of silk and lace is everything Jongin could wish for in a significant other, at least visually. Jongin feels his throat go dry and he is sure he must look quite dumb, gaping at his soon to be wife? Sehun could be a female like this, light make up highlighting his prettiest features, softening the sharp edges to his face.

It is the usual wedding; the only thing making it special is the couple standing at the altar, Crown Prince Jongin and Prince Sehun. They exchange their vows, they exchange rings and they exchange a kiss, a soft, short one, Jongin barely tasting Sehun’s sweetness, before the other pulls away, cheeks rosy, and Jongin is not sure if it’s only the applied blush or if it’s his own. There are cheers and loud applauds, but there are also a few disappointed sighs, spectators surely hoping to see more of a show. It is all over so quickly, the freshly married royal couple leaving the wedding hall, Sehun quickly changing into a suit and removing all make-up, except for the little eyeliner accentuating his eyes, before they attend the ball where they open the night with a slow waltz. Jongin has Sehun in his arms, friendly for once, and Jongin feels reluctant to let Sehun go to walk through the crowds and greet everyone.

There are too many people and it takes hours for the Crown Prince and his husband to say hello to all the important ones. By the end of the night, Sehun is getting quieter and quieter. It is the alcohol, Jongin says, trying not to think of what will happen later tonight. He doesn’t have his hopes up high. There is no doubt that things will get worse between the two of them, Sehun as distant as ever. It is only for the public that Sehun puts on a smile when he is around Jongin, but everyone who knows the pale boy can easily read how hesitant he is around Jongin. Sehun doesn’t fancy Jongin much. He still doesn’t, although Jongin has been civil to the other for quite some while, trying to get closer to Sehun. If he had to live with Sehun, Jongin figured out being on a friendly level would make his life less stressful. Hating on each other every day was just too tiring.

 

 

Jongin leads Sehun towards his rooms that are turning into Sehun’s as well. He remembers Sehun having been here on his very first day, but afterwards, he hasn’t seen Sehun around here anymore. It is only Jongin walking around close to his fiancés rooms to catch a glimpse of the other. He feels his heart beating faster at the prospect of what will happen later tonight, maybe his only chance to see more of the delicate porcelain skin, unless he sneaks in on the other. There is no doubt that Sehun has the most beautiful skin Jongin has seen. He can tell, even if he has caught Sehun changing clothes only once, when his father has sent him to get his fiancé to go out. Sehun had his back turned to him that time and when Jongin came in, knocking but not waiting for a reply, Sehun had been screaming at him to leave. That didn’t mean the picture of Sehun’s creamy back wasn’t burnt into his memory, broad shoulders not as broad as Jongin’s, and waist so small like a girl’s.

“I’ll go take a shower first,” Jongin announces, leaving Sehun standing there. He looks a little forlorn, small in the wide room, and Jongin feels pity for the other. Sighing, the Crown Prince hurries with his shower, only taking time to lather his body with some lotion, before he goes back to the bedroom, a silk robe thrown on. Sehun is nowhere in sight. Frowning, Jongin sits down on the bed, a new one and bigger than his bed before, and Jongin feels even more lonely now.

The door opens a few minutes later, Sehun entering in a light blue robe, similar to Jongin’s. His hair is still damp and Sehun looks unsure, eyeing the bed suspiciously.

“Sehun, come here,” Jongin says when the door falls close and for a moment he thinks Sehun will just turn around and leave. But when Sehun gets in motion, he is walking towards Jongin, sitting down on the bed.

“We are going to sleep here,” Jongin says. Sehun just nods.

“And we are going to consummate our marriage here.” If their relationship was better, Jongin would have smiled, cooing and reassuring the pale boy who looks so frightened right now, but tonight, the prince knows that his smartest move is to oblige Sehun to fulfill his deeds. Only then he can get a taste of what he had been dreaming of for the last few weeks, not the pale expanse of Luhan’s skin, but Sehun’s. He hates to admit it, but he has been jacking off to thoughts of Sehun for the last two, three weeks.

“This is part of the protocol, Sehun,” he adds, steady eyes kept on the other. Sehun gulps and nods, voice shaky. Jongin has never seen him so nervous before. It just makes him want Sehun more, both of them inexperienced, but Jongin is sure and he wants to guide Sehun, leading the other. There is no way Jongin could submit, the King always being the one in charge. “I know. Let’s get over with this.”

 

 

“Sehun,” Jongin whispers. He can feel a shiver going through Sehun’s lithe frame. It brings him some satisfaction to get a reaction, because he knows that Sehun, too, feels at least physical attraction to him. There has been this undeniable electric spark between them and now Jongin is sure that it’s not only him feeling it.

Sehun is laid underneath him, the robe still tied around his torso, but slipped off the milky shoulders, baring his chest. “Sehun,” Jongin says softly, hands running over the expanse of porcelain skin. He is entranced by the sight, lips pressing light kisses all over Sehun’s stomach and chest before going up, nipping at Sehun’s jawline until he reaches thin, pink lips. “Sehun,” he repeats, before pressing down, lips moving against the other’s, licking, nipping, teasing. Soon, Sehun opens up, letting Jongin dip his tongue inside and explore the wet cavern. The lack of enthusiasm on the other side though, Sehun simply letting him do whatever, dampens Jongin’s lust. He wants Sehun to enjoy this, too, but Sehun is only lying there, like a pleasure slave presented to a king and not a partner that Jongin now admits he has been imagining Sehun as lately.

Jongin sighs and sits up. “Sehun,” he says, tone serious as he pulls the other into a sitting position as well. They are now face to face, but Sehun avoids looking at him. The pale cheeks are tinted in a beautiful rosy shade and Jongin wants to lean in and kiss, make Sehun flush a dark red that would compliment his pretty skin further, but there is something more important to do first. Jongin wants to ensure that he is not forcing himself on the other. He doesn’t think he can enjoy this if Sehun is so unwilling. Not his body, but in his mind, Sehun is wishing for Jongin to go away, he can read it from the tenseness in Sehun’s stance.

“Do you want this?” He asks, hand darting out to brush away a strand of hair covering Sehun’s eyes. He stops mid-air when the pale boy flinches, sighing. “You don’t want it,” Jongin states, frowning. “You don’t want me near you, am I right?”

Sehun looks up, wildness in his eyes flickering, but the flame dies out soon. Jongin bites his lips.

“What I want is not important,” Sehun says, voice dripping bitterness. “You are the Crown Prince and I am your betrothed one, so do what you have to. But hurry, I am tired.”

Jongin just shakes his head, pulling up the robe to cover Sehun’s upper body. He wants Sehun, craves to touch the skin and make Sehun moan out his name, but it feels wrong to touch his husband, if the other doesn’t want him to. Jongin wants the feeling to be mutual, wants his growing fondness of the other to be reflected.

“It’s fine,” Jongin says, trying his best to smile. “Go to sleep if you’re tired. I’m not going to force myself on you.”

Adjusting his own robe, Jongin scoots over to a side, making space between them. He has seen Sehun’s small, thankful smile and he has heard the sigh of relief that both don’t make him feel any better. Why does Sehun still hate him so much? He wants nothing more than to hold his husband in his arms at night, kissing and cuddling until they fall asleep. He hasn’t realized it, but now he does. Jongin is sad, he feels lonely, and Luhan is taboo, but Sehun is not. Sehun is his now, so why does his brain say no when he wants to give in to his heart’s desires?

That night, Jongin stays awake, listening to Sehun’s breathing. Sehun doesn’t make any noises nor does he move around much and Jongin thinks of scooting closer and hugging his husband, explaining it tomorrow morning that he doesn’t recall doing it, that he must have been unconsciously moving in his sleep. But that would be overstepping his boundaries while Jongin is trying hard to make himself a little more likeable. Sehun is smart, he would figure out Jongin lying to him.

 

 

“Did you sleep well?” Luhan requires with a small smile at the breakfast table. Sehun replies with a curt nod and a soft, almost shy smile. Jongin is sure Luhan would have glared at him if Sehun showed any signs of discomfort, but there is none. When Jongin woke up earlier, Sehun was already dressed, standing in front of the mirror to run through his hair. Jongin knows it feels like silk now.

“Was Jongin gentle with you last night?” She asks and Jongin wants to reprimand her, but he keeps silent, downing his breakfast as fast as possible to escape. He knows what Luhan is doing now, knows it is to remind him that she is not on his side anymore, supporting Sehun now instead. It’s outright upsetting, especially when Luhan’s hand is not swatted away when she brushes Sehun’s hair back, nor does she get refused when Luhan puts another slice of ham and cheese on Sehun’s plate, whereas the reaction towards Jongin is a glare, hands pulling Sehun’s plate out of reach.

Sehun hums softly, getting up hastily when the King enters the dining hall. Jongin’s father just laughs and waves Sehun off, gesturing the boy to sit down instead. Sehun bows his head before doing so and the King chuckles. “Sehun, don’t be so formal to your father-in-law,” he says and Sehun nods, though Jongin can still tell that Sehun is tensed. He can tell it by Sehun’s thin lips pulled into a straight line, though it’s not much of a difference to his poker face, to other people at least.

“Relax,” Luhan says and offers a smile, at which Sehun’s shoulders loose tension. Jongin clenches his hands into fists, not pleased when he should be the one helping to break the ice between his husband and his father.

“Have some scrambled egg, too,” Jongin offers then, putting some on Sehun’s plate before the other can even protest. _What?_ he mouths at Jongdae, who just raises an eyebrow at that action.

“Sehun doesn’t eat eggs,” Luhan says awkwardly and Jongin just falls back into his chair, giving up.

 

 

“How are things between you and your husband?” The King asks Jongin on one of their very rare father-son walks together. Lately, Jongin has been entrusted a few decisions over important matters, slowly learning to do all the work that comes with being crowned. Although it would take a long time until Jongin’s father would retire, the King had ordered Jongin to get familiar with his future responsibilities, hence the time spent between father and son were more of a political character, just as their talks were. Today though, the King is asking a personal question after they have been discussing the situation in the East Sea.

“Not too bad, I suppose,” Jongin replies quietly, not really wanting to talk about his marriage. He has grown irritated and frustrated lately, what with Luhan taking Sehun out all the time. He has seen them parting to go into town together, as well as watched them taking a walk in the gardens.

“Sehun is a lovely boy,” the King says, nodding. “I am glad you two got married. Sehun could have been a worse person.”

“We didn’t marry out of love,” Jongin sighs. “And I don’t think it does us any good. This marriage is a bad thing. You should have made me marry someone else.”

“Are you sure?” The King requires, glancing at his son. There is a grin Jongin can’t quite interpret, but he thinks it is mere amusement, nothing he should worry about.

“But neither did your mother and I marry out of love, despite everyone saying so. We learned to love each other while living with each other though and you were born out of that love,” the King says and squeezes Jongin’s shoulder lightly, before he walks back into the palace, signaling the end of today’s conversation. Jongin sighs and follows, wondering if Sehun could ever love him as much as his mother had loved his father. The queen had been a wonderful person and Jongin doesn’t doubt that Sehun could be just as wonderful as her. The only thing he lacked was some feelings for Jongin, but in everything else, with his duties, Sehun was careful, always trying his best. What he couldn’t do yet, he would work hard to execute each task as perfect as possible. Not to mention Sehun’s natural talent in arts. With that, Sehun was so similar to his mother and Luhan.

 

 

“Hey Jongin,” Luhan greets. Jongin thinks the light blush that came along with her pregnancy is pretty, but it’s nothing compared to the blush on Sehun’s cheeks the one time he was allowed to kiss him. Luhan is in her fourth month and she is as happy and chipper as always, not at all tired despite her own workload. After all, she does politics, too, an unhealthy thing for a soon to be mother, Jongin thinks, but Luhan doesn’t listen.

“Weekly report on Sehun’s progress?” Jongin asks instead, feeling tired of this. Only because Luhan is Sehun’s tutor doesn’t mean she has to tell him everything about his husband. It is irritating that while she is a strict teacher, from what Jongin can hear when he sometimes walks past Sehun’s former chambers, she still finds time to chatter with Sehun, revealing small little secrets Sehun would never tell him. Such as Sehun’s past being an orphan, his parents passed away due to a huge car accident and his relatives not wanting to feed another mouth. Sehun had spent most of his time there, until he was old enough to decide for himself that he didn’t want to live like that. He wanted to go out and work, not following what the regulations had already carved for his future. Sehun didn’t want to grow up working for royal or political institutions, he wanted freedom to do what he wanted, just like other children who grew up with parents, with a family, and so, at the age of thirteen, he ran away. From then on, he lived in the streets, taken in by friendly people he helped out on cold or rainy nights, cleaning and washing dishes in restaurants to get a meal. When he was too old for people pitying him, he started to tell stories to earn a few bills a day, enough for one, two meals. It was not an easy life, but still, Sehun liked it. He wanted it more than security and a guided path. Life was more than that, Sehun the dreamer believed, having read enough adventure novels in his childhood to know.

“Sehun’s really smart,” Luhan starts. “And he is so sensitive, so attentive. I’m really struck because I never thought I’d find someone with such a brilliant logic. He is a fast learner. You should consider yourself lucky to be married to someone like him. He has a good memory, too, remembering all the difficult words I taught him. One or two more years and he will be able to help you with Chinese-Korean relations, your personal translator so to say,” she continues on, a smile plastered on her face. Jongin feels disgusted by her obvious liking towards Sehun. He wonders if Sehun punishing Jongin with being distant is a thing Luhan has taught his husband, too, and at the thought of it alone he is boiling. Why is Luhan easily conversing with Sehun when his interactions with his own husband are cut short to greetings and minute talks only? Sehun rarely stays long enough in a room with Jongin alone for them to have any deep conversations. Jongin has yet to get a taste of Sehun’s intellect everyone is talking about.

“You’re quite close to Sehun,” Jongin remarks, surprised about the barely covered annoyance in his voice.

“We get along quite well. He’s like a lost twin,” Luhan replies, still smiling. Maybe her pregnancy did change her own sensitivity, seeing her not reacting to his unusual tone.

“Don’t you think you’re a little too close to him?” Jongin asks then, not bothering to hide how pissed he is now. Luhan is slowly getting under Sehun’s skin, he thinks, and he doesn’t like it a bit. Sehun is his; Sehun should open up to him first.

“Why?” Luhan asks, raising her eyebrows. It’s a little late, but at least she is reading the signs now, sensing Jongin’s clearly negative stance. “Sehun needs at least one person he can trust. If he can’t trust his husband, well, at least he has me as a confident.”

“A confident who spills all his secrets to the person he dislikes the most? A good confident you are,” Jongin spits out.

“So?” Luhan challenges him. “Sehun knows that I will tell you. But he rather lets you know through me than talking to you in person because, well, not everyone can stand you and some people, smart people like Sehun, know that it is better to keep away from you.”

That’s it. Jongin loses his temper and it is only thanks to his friendship with the Chinese girl that he doesn’t raise his hand. “Out,” he grits out from between his teeth. “I want you away from Sehun. You and Jongdae are the first people being dismissed once it’s my time to reign.”

The door opens at that and Jongin startles when he turns around and sees Sehun.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” Sehun’s lowly nature is showing, just as Sehun has warned him once, but Jongin finds he minds it less than Luhan being so pretentious all this time, acting as if she was his friend, only to seduce him and break his heart to marry his smart, smart cousin who would be another powerful figure, maybe even more powerful than the future king himself, a puppet to all the ministers and advisors. Luhan and her love for intellectuals. Smart, smart Luhan.

“Leave,” Jongin tells Luhan again, voice cold and stern. He can see her hands being balled up into fists and it gives him some satisfaction to see her trembling lightly, out of anger probably. She can’t do anything though. The Crown Prince’s words are above hers. Before she can leave though, Sehun steps in.

“What the hell is wrong with you,” Sehun says, tone a little calmer, but he can see hostility in those eyes. It stings a lot, but Jongin is stubborn and he won’t budge away. His pride is at stake, too, if he admits what he wants now. “You will not decide who I socialize with.”

“I will,” Jongin says. “I’m your husband and I will be the King. You better learn to listen to me.” And with that, Jongin leaves, feeling like he is about to throw up. He has just ruined his childhood friendship and Sehun doesn’t even appreciate him giving away one of his most prized things in exchange for ownership over a splitter of Sehun’s heart. It is disgust with himself he feels, and Jongin wants nothing more than to go back in time and take back every single word ever uttered to Sehun. He wished he had seen the diamond under all the dirt before he opened his mouth the first time.


	3. Chapter 3

Jongin hasn’t spoken with Sehun for a whole week. Sehun has been going to bed and waking up at clearly different times, refusing to give Jongin a chance to talk and explain himself. Not that Jongin would ever admit his mistake. He does regret his harsh words, but he is fixed on the idea that he is in the right, Luhan having no right to be this close to Sehun.

It is not surprising that it feels awkward now, having Sehun by his side, all happy and smiley, making small talk to important ministers and party members. Socializing is not Sehun’s strength, Jongin has thought, but he is proven wrong when his husband laughs and smiles, seemingly unforced as he engages into light conservation. Sehun is brilliant, shining like this, and Jongin just can’t take his eyes and hands off of Sehun. He knows for sure that Sehun will punish him later by showing him the cold shoulder even more clearly, but right now he is using one of his few chances to lay his hands on Sehun, wrapping an arm around the other’s waist or shoulder, rubbing circles onto the other’s skin with his thumb. There is a layer of fabrics in between, but Jongin doesn’t mind, this is as far as he can go. In public, he doesn’t kiss Sehun full on the mouth, but he does peck Sehun when no one is looking and occasionally, his hand would wander down to squeeze Sehun’s globe. All as discreet as possible, of course.

“Stop it please,” Sehun whispers later that night, when they have made their round and talked to everyone, people seeming more interested in tasting the delicacies and dancing rather than talking to His Majesty or the Crown Prince couple. They, too, are dancing, a slow waltz, and Jongin is fully taking advantage of the situation to press their bodies close.

“It’s alright,” Jongin whispers back. “We’re married after all.”

“Don’t exaggerate. You can stop acting.” Jongin is not acting though, when he keeps up with the skinship, desperate for more. Sehun tries his best to pull away, but he can’t when there are still eyes on them. He acts shy, embarrassed by his Prince’s advances, but Jongin doesn’t care. He pulls Sehun into a kiss nonetheless, lips moving only slightly against Sehun’s. The response is slow, hesitant, and Jongin smirks. Sehun is playing his role and here in public, Jongin can at least get this much, when usually, Sehun would avoid him in private.

His Majesty walks past, eyeing his son and his husband with questioning eyes, and Jongin pulls away, excusing them for the rest of the evening. The King just smiles and nods and Jongin saunters off, pulling the pale boy along. He can hear the chuckles, people probably smiling and shaking their heads at the two newlyweds.

“What are you doing?” Sehun scoffs, when Jongin keeps dragging him farther away from the ball room. They pass guards and servants who look at them in curiosity, but Jongin pays them no heed. He keeps pulling Sehun, the grip on his husband’s wrist strong, but hopefully not hurting. Only when the door to their chambers close does Jongin let go of Sehun for a second, only to turn around and pin him against the door.

“Sehun-ah,” Jongin whispers lowly. “You’re my husband, but why do you let people stare at you so much? Why do you smile at them so much?”

“What? I thought I was supposed to talk and make good impressions on everyone as your husband, helping you with social ties?” Sehun spits back, only to gasp a second later when Jongin decides he has heard enough. The Prince doesn’t wish to argue more, latching his mouth onto Sehun’s jawline instead, hands working to unbutton the shirt. Once pale collarbones are in sight, Jongin drops lower, lips tracing a hot, wet line down Sehun’s neck, sucking at the skin right above the collarbones. Sehun doesn’t complain, but he doesn’t edge Jongin on either. He is just standing there, as if waiting for it to be over, while Jongin wishes desperately for this to go on.

“Sehun,” he whispers against the red spot blooming on ivory skin. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” Another gasp is the only response Jongin receives when his tongue darts out to lap over the mark he has just left there.

“Can I?” Jongin asks. Sehun doesn’t reply, but there is no resistance when Jongin pulls the other over to their bed, pushing his husband down into the soft mattress and cushions. Sehun’s shirt has been shed on the way and Jongin is working on unbuckling Sehun’s belt now. He instructs Sehun to lift his hips to make it easy to slip off his boxers and pants, but Sehun is stubborn. He keeps laying there, eyes closed as if this was a punishment he knew that was coming.

“Sehun,” Jongin whispers, stopping in his tracks. “Are you enjoying this at all?” There is no response and Jongin can only sigh.

“Are you just going to let me fuck you even if you don’t want me to?”

Sehun then sits up, fire burning in his eyes.

“So what do you actually want from me?” Sehun asks, not bothering to lower his voice. “If you want to fuck me, then fuck me already so I can go to bed. I don’t have all night to entertain you. I’m tired of this.”

Jongin should have said the truth; that he wants Sehun in a way a man wants his love, a husband wanting his betrothed one, but all that leaves his mouth is another question. “So you’ll just let me do whatever I want to do?”

“You’re the future King. Is there anything I can do against your words or wishes?” Sehun asks, anger apparent in his tone, but there is also sadness and bitterness. “So, please, for God’s sake, go on and satisfy your urges and let me sleep in peace afterwards. I’m not going to stop you, even if you were to kill me.”

Jongin doesn’t know what to think or to feel at that, so he does the only thing he can think of: getting up and leave. He doesn’t want to possess Sehun’s shell only, he wants everything. The body is nice, enticing, but he wants Sehun to want him back, wants Sehun to respond eagerly with needy moans and whines. He wants Sehun as whole, his mind belonging to Jongin, too, because in every second he thinks of Sehun, Sehun should be thinking of him, too.

Standing in midst of the hallway, Jongin doesn’t know what to do or where to go. His feet automatically bring him to Sehun’s former rooms and he lays down on the bed, so much smaller than his own, but he feels comforted by the thought that Sehun has slept in here. One thought follows the other and Jongin slowly drifts into sleep with the resolution to avoid Sehun from now on. He doesn’t want Sehun to feel uncomfortable or forced into anything. One day, Sehun will stop hating him. Hopefully.

 

 

The days that follow are peaceful. Jongin does his best to stay away from Sehun. They see each other rarely, only during dinner time when the King requests both their appearance, but apart from that, they rarely run into each other. Jongin buries himself in paperwork and in his sparse free time he looks for his husband, but once he has found him, he just watches from afar.

At night, Jongin doesn’t return to their rooms. Instead, he stays in Sehun’s former chambers, sleeping there to give Sehun enough distance. There is less hatred in Sehun’s eyes whenever they eat, looking at each other coincidentally, but Jongin does not have the courage to approach Sehun yet, no matter how much he wants to.

Sehun is spending most of his day with Luhan, the Chinese girl still teaching him history, politics and Chinese language apart from the lessons in traditional arts Sehun is still receiving. Even now, Jongin can sometimes get a glimpse of Sehun preparing tea or Sehun dancing and he wants nothing more than to dance along.

Sometimes, when Jongin looks out of the window, he can see Luhan and Sehun taking a walk in the garden. Luhan speaks animatedly with a lot of gestures, them being less wild than before, more elegant and feminine. When the wind carries soft laughter over to him to hear, Jongin’s heart clenches painfully. He wishes he could be the one Sehun was laughing with with such a carefree manner.

There are things real royals would never do, but for Sehun, those rules are not valid. Jongin notices the amount of time Sehun spends outside, talking to the gardeners, occasionally even dirtying his robes to help. Sehun smiles a lot when he is outside, careful hands watering the flowers, choosing the prettiest to be picked and put on the dining table later. When the table is cleaned later, Jongin orders the flowers to be put on the desk in his study room.

There is a slight change with Sehun. When he has been quiet, eyes dimmed after their wedding, they are starting to shine again. The poker face he has thought to be Sehun’s default expression is replaced by a tiny little smile. It gives Jongin hope that Sehun could adjust to his new, royal life. Inwardly, Jongin is thankful that Sehun is not put under as much pressure as he is, the king still allowing him to walk around freely.

 

 

 

There is another party the two of them have to attend and it is the first time in weeks that Sehun and Jongin are sitting this close together, except for meals. They are not quite finished yet, stylists still running around to find the perfect shades of make up for the tired looking prince.

Jongin catches Sehun’s gaze lingering on him and his heart beats a little faster. Is there worry he sees in there? Sehun blinks and the flicker of emotion is gone. Jongin bites down on his lip.

“Hey,” Jongin says when the stylists all leave. Sehun is sitting next to him, body tensed as if he was ready to jump and run. By now Sehun should know though, that Jongin would not do him any harm. He has long given up on wanting to make Sehun’s life more miserable than his own. All he wants now is to share everything, the ups and downs in royal life. He wants to share heat on cold nights, too, but that is a different story.

Sehun looks at him, eyes void of emotions. Maybe there is a hint of curiosity, but Jongin can’t tell if Sehun’s eyebrows are slightly raised or not. At least Sehun is not ignoring him, he thinks and proceeds, wanting Sehun to talk to him and open up to him, too, just as he is to Luhan.

“You’ve been smiling a lot more lately.”

Now Jongin can clearly see Sehun raising his eyebrows, a look of surprise on his face. Maybe it is not a good idea to start like this, admitting that he has been watching his husband. Sehun might find it creepy and hate him more. But Sehun doesn’t say a thing, eyes going back to their normal size, expression bored, as if to say _so what?_.

Jongin wants a vocal reply, so he asks further. “Are you getting used to your new life? Are you happier now?”

Sehun still doesn’t reply. He has his lower lip worried between his teeth and Jongin contemplates on leaning in and kissing those lips, taking them between his own set of teeth, lightly pulling, teasing. Would Sehun like that? Instead, he continues to keep up a conversation, despite the lack of response.

“Can you imagine living here forever, until you grow old? If I gave you the choice to leave or stay, what will you choose?” Jongin is highly aware how sensitive this topic is, but he is curious and he wants Sehun to tell him that he does not hate Jongin; that he can imagine them living in harmony together later on. Not now, Jongin won’t pressure Sehun, because he knows how the outcome will be, but later on, he thinks Sehun might approach him again.

“My Prince,” Sehun replies, eyeing him with caution. “You know that we both are better off if I wasn’t here. I would always choose to leave.”

Jongin blinks, not comprehending, when Sehun’s life is turning into a fairy tale. The Prince was falling for him, a commoner, and treating Sehun with utmost care, yet Sehun chooses to leave this life?

“Even if you have to return to that beggar life?”

“At least it’s an honest life.”

Jongin doesn’t know how to respond, although he is quite sure that he would have thrown a tantrum, anger slowly building up, but interrupted by a servant telling them to join the King. Sehun looks relieved at that, but Jongin is not. He is boiling inside. No, boiling is the wrong word when it is not only anger bottled inside. He feels frustrated, too, sad, hopeless, desperate for some affection. Sehun, he repeats in his head. Sehun Sehun _Sehun_.

 

 

Jongin wakes up with a heavy headache. He feels slightly nauseous, too, groaning, as he sits up, hands rubbing over his face. He doesn’t want to get up at all. Curling up into his bed and dying sounds like a good thing to do, but he knows that he has to get up. A prince has his duties. His eyes dart over to the clock on his bedside table and Jongin’s eyes widen. It’s nearing noon. How could he have slept so much. And then it hits him.

Jongin recognizes this as a terrible hangover. He doesn’t remember much, but he must have been drinking a lot. Someone must have brought him home, but who? A servant his father has called? It was a more or less big party and Jongin just hopes that he didn’t leave a bad impression on anyone, but if he did, his father surely would have paid him a visit already, even if he was in no shape to welcome the King.

A servant must have brought him home, seeing as he was brought to his and Sehun’s rooms. He wonders briefly if Sehun has gone to his own room to sleep there, until he hears the door open. Jongin falls back into the cushions, taking in a deep breath. It smells like Sehun already, the soft citrus shampoo and a very light soap. Sehun has never liked the fancy products, demanding the cheaper, simpler ones to be bought for him.

Maybe Jongin can feign sleep, he thinks, as no one has woken him so far. Today he has been given free, or else he would have been ushered to the library or his study rooms already. Jongin closes his eyes.

Jongin can hear steps drawing closer and a tray being put on the bedside table. He pretends to sleep, trying to even out his breath. The bed dips and Jongin thinks about sitting up and telling the rude servant off, when he hears a familiar voice speaking.

“Drop the act. I know you’re awake.”

“Sehun,” Jongin whispers and sits up immediately. It’s not a good idea and his head hurts more than ever. He grunts, mouth set into a grim line, because Sehun is seeing him like this. Did Sehun see him yesterday, too, when he was taking shot after shot with officials and ministers, not declining anyone? Jongin faintly remembers that he and Sehun had been making rounds as usual, but he didn’t dare to touch his husband. There was always enough distance between them so they wouldn’t bump into each other. No skinship at all. It must have lead to so much inner frustration that Jongin didn’t know how to release it other than by drinking his sorrow away.

Sehun sighs softly and scoots closer, making Jongin lean against the headboard, pillows stuffed behind his back. “I brought some soup,” Sehun whispers softly. Jongin watches as Sehun moves towards the bedside table to take a bowl into his hand, the other hand holding a spoon. He half expects Sehun to shove it into his hands, but Sehun just sits down, digging the spoon into the soup before he brings it to his own lips, blowing lightly. Jongin watches with fascination as those pink lips pucker up a bit and he wants to lean in and kiss them so desperately. All he can do though, is lie there and hope that Sehun doesn’t hate him too much. He can’t hate Jongin that much if he is doing this, feeding the soup to Jongin now.

“I made bean sprout soup. People say it helps with bad hangovers,” Sehun mumbles. Jongin doesn’t know if it’s true. He thinks it’s because Sehun has made the soup that he feels slightly better afterwards. His head is still pounding, but the pain has reduced to a minimum, a little disturbing, but he can bear it. It doesn’t take too long until Jongin finishes the bowl of soup, smiling, as Sehun wipes his lips with a tissue. He feels a little like a child, but at the same time like a bedridden husband with a loving wife.

“Thank you,” Jongin says sincerely, but Sehun just shakes his head.

“It’s nothing,” the pale boy mumbles and gets up to his feet.

“About yesterday. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I was just… I just had to drink. I’m not going to do this again. Sorry for all the inconvenience. Did you sleep in your former rooms?” Jongin is curious.

“It’s alright,” Sehun mumbles, not meeting his eyes. Jongin keeps staring, observing Sehun’s face. He thinks he can see tears brimming there, eyes glazed over.

“Did I hurt you in any way?” Jongin requires immediately, trying to sit up, but Sehun is fast. He pushes Jongin back into the cushions with a firm hand.

“It’s okay,” Sehun repeats. “You’re my husband. Of course I’ll take care of you. Always.” With that, he leaves. Jongin swears he has seen a pink hue on Sehun’s face.

 

 

“You’re really something,” Jongdae says when he pays a visit later. Jongin has taken a shower and he feels less gross now. His headache has subsided, too, and the Prince just scoffs at his cousin. He doesn’t like this at all when he has no memory of what happened the night before. Jongdae seems to know and it looks like Jongdae wants to rub it into his face.

“Don’t tease him,” Luhan interrupts. A servant is following her, bringing fruits and cake and tea. Jongin bites his lip because he still hasn’t apologized yet. He does feel ashamed when Luhan acts like nothing has happened. She is a little cooler towards him now, but not noticeably enough.

“Thanks,” Jongin mumbles and Luhan only shakes her head. The servant has left and she lets out a sigh. “I’m still mad at you,” Luhan says, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“I’m sorry,” Jongin says then. He doesn’t want to continue this talk in front of Jongdae, but he has learnt that there are no secrets between the couple. Whatever happens, they tell each other, and Jongin is jealous of them. They have such a close relationship, so much closer than he had with Luhan, and infinite times closer than he will ever be with Sehun.

“Apology accepted,” Luhan says and grins, plopping down onto one of the sofas. Even now, with her round belly, she is beautiful, Jongin thinks, but when he thinks of breathtakingly beautiful, it’s another face that pops up in his mind.

“Thanks,” Jongin says after a sigh of relief. It was easier than he thought. Luhan is more forgiving than expected.

The girl hums and grins, nudging Jongdae, as if there was something to tell, something she doesn’t want to reveal with her own words. It is irritating to see her in such a good mood, despite their argument before, Jongin even threatening her. Too forgiving, he thinks, and now he feels relieved Luhan didn’t choose him. He would never be a good husband to her, when he is too stubborn and she has become too obedient.

“So…” Luhan starts, filling the cups with tea. “What happened yesterday night?”

Jongin just shrugs. He doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction, but meeting the combined strength of Luhan and Jongdae, Jongin can only loose. In the end he gives up and admits he doesn’t remember much. He only knows that he must have been drinking excessively.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Jongdae starts, taking a sip. “Luhan noticed you drinking over-enthusiastically and has sent both you and Sehun home. We didn’t want anyone to see you in that state, what with your image and all, so Sehun carried you home. You should thank him for not dumping you in the next best trash can.”

“Hyung!” Jongin whines, face flushed with embarrassment.

“And maybe you should talk to Sehun if you want to know what exactly happened afterwards,” Luhan adds, laughing. They are both enjoying this too much, Jongin thinks, but he doesn’t have it in him to throw them out. Jongin is just glad that they are still sticking to him no matter what.

Jongdae seems to have read his thoughts. “We are family after all. No one can cut our ties that easily, My Prince.”

“And if you throw us out,” Luhan says. “It will only be your own disadvantage. After all, you need our consultation in all kinds of politics. Family politics, too.” Luhan is winking and Jongin just groans. He understands what Luhan is trying to say. Jongin can’t handle Sehun on his own, but Luhan can. She knows how to and if Jongin ever ran into problems with his husband, there would always be Luhan to give him advice.

“I know Sehun quite well and I think you two should talk,” she says. Jongin thinks so, too.

 

 

He doesn’t get much of a chance to talk to Sehun. Before he knows it, it is late already, time to go to bed. Jongin has been avoiding his husband for quite some time, but seeing as Sehun has been nice to him this morning, Jongin gathers his courage to return to their shared rooms. He can still decide to sleep in Sehun’s former rooms, but for now Jongin wants to see Sehun and his reaction.

When Jongin enters the room, he finds everything has been staying in place. The room is only dimly lit and he can see Sehun sitting in bed, scrolling through his tablet and reading. When the door closes, Sehun looks up, putting the device away, waiting for an order. “My Prince,” he says, as if Jongin was his master, not his husband, and Jongin feels like being stabbed. It is his own fault though, making Sehun think that he was arrogant, thinking of Sehun as a lowly creature. He admits he had, but now it’s different. It was not Sehun’s fault for being born into a family like that, just as it’s not Jongin’s fault for being born the Crown Prince. If he wasn’t, would Sehun like him more?

“Sehun,” Jongin whispers and walks up to the other slowly, climbing into bed. Sehun makes some space, but he doesn’t protest when Jongin pulls him closer later, one arm thrown over a narrow waist.

 

 

Jongin wakes up to an empty space next to him. He feels disappointed when there is so much to say, still. They didn’t talk at all last night when Jongin found he was already demanding too much by sleeping in one bed with Sehun. He half expected Sehun to get up and leave, but he was pleased when Sehun didn’t move away. Sighing, Jongin gets up and his eyes widen. Sehun is standing there, changing. Jongin only gets a glimpse of a pale, smooth back, but it’s enough to make him want. He calls out for the other before realizing what he has done.

Sehun turns around, blinking in confusion, but his feet move nonetheless. He approaches the bed hesitantly and sits down, waiting for more instructions. Jongin’s throat constricts and he wants to cry when he can’t detect any hatred in those eyes.

“Sehun,” he whispers. “Come here.”

Sehun obeys and crawls back into bed, wordlessly, but Jongin doesn’t need words. He is terrible at speaking when Sehun is around, the well-speaking and coherent prince diminishing at his husband’s presence. He pulls Sehun closer and embraces the other, smiling when he finds a little more flesh there than last time. At least Sehun enjoys the food here. Smiling softly at the other, Jongin presses a kiss on the other’s forehead. He presses another kiss on Sehun’s cheek. Jongin wants to kiss those lips, too, but he doesn’t dare. They are on good terms right now and Jongin doesn’t want to ruin it by being too rash. He kisses the other cheek instead, releasing Sehun after.

“Are you not having breakfast here?” He asks and Sehun just stares at him.

“We can have breakfast here, you know? But if you want to eat downstairs, then go. I’ll eat here.”

Jongin is pleased to find breakfast served when he steps out of the shower. Sehun is sitting at the table, watching him, and Jongin has never felt so self-conscious before. He didn’t expect Sehun to be here, so he is relieved he has at least a towel wrapped around his waist. He quickly chooses an outfit for the day and changes in the bathroom.

“You can just eat,” Jongin says as he slips into the seat next to Sehun. “You don’t need to wait for me every morning.”

Sehun just shakes his head, a shy smile around his face. Jongin wants him to talk, but this is a good start he thinks, not wanting to press Sehun too much. It feels a little bit more like being married to a loving partner now.

 

 

Everything’s going smoothly and for the past few days, Jongin has even managed to get a kiss in the mornings and later at night, before they go to bed. He has managed to make Sehun smile once or twice, too, although he doesn’t know if Sehun has been amused by his story or if Sehun has been laughing at him. It doesn’t matter though, as long as Sehun looks happier, Jongin thinks it’s alright. Come to think of it, Jongin has never allowed anyone to laugh at him with his pride prioritized over everything, but Sehun, Sehun makes him reconsider things.

“You’ll be a good king,” Jongdae has said to him just yesterday. “It will be an honor to serve you.”

“Just don’t lose Sehun. He is good for you and this kingdom,” Luhan has added. Jongin agrees.

 

 

But just because things go smoothly, Jongin doesn’t dare to touch Sehun in more intimate ways yet. Being allowed to hug Sehun and hold him close at night, occasionally pecking Sehun on his lips is all Jongin does, despite aching for more. He doesn’t trust himself though, fearing he might be too demanding. Sehun, after all, is a human, and just because he is the Prince, he can’t get everything he wants. He can get Sehun’s body, but he can’t get Sehun’s affections like that.

“Sehun,” Jongin sighs that night, when Sehun is curled up into his arms, breath steady. “I really, really want to kiss you,” he confesses to the sleeping figure of his husband. The first nights Jongin has fallen asleep before Sehun, but lately, Sehun seems to be feeling comfortable enough with him to not stress and fall asleep immediately.

“Kiss me then,” a sleepy Sehun replies and Jongin freezes for a second. Was Sehun not supposed to be asleep?

“Can I?” Jongin asks. “Do you trust me enough to let me…?”

Sehun sits up and pulls Jongin with him. They are face to face and Sehun’s expression is neutral. Sometimes it is still hard to read Sehun. “You are my husband, so…“

Jongin interrupts. “I am your husband and the future king, so I can do as I please, right? But Sehun, I don’t want to do things to you that you don’t want me to. I told you, I want you to enjoy this, too. If you don’t and if you’re still unhappy inside, only faking the smiles and happiness you showed the last few days and weeks, then I will rearrange things. You will get your own bed in here, or you can move back to your old rooms. I don’t want to be the reason for your misery.”

“Sehun,” Jongin says, when there is no reply. He takes Sehun’s hands into his. “If there is anything you don’t like, then tell me. Don’t give me the silent treatment. I’ll try to be better and do better. Anything for you. I like you and I think I like you more every day.”

“What if I want a divorce?” Sehun asks. Jongin looks away in resignation.

“If you really can’t be happy as my husband, I will set you free. But let me prove to you that I can be good to you. Just give me more time,” Jongin pleads, still holding on to Sehun. The smile on the other’s face is gentle and warm, yet Sehun pulls his hands away.

Jongin sighs. “Alright. I understand.”

Before he can get up though, Sehun is pushing him into the cushions, lips pressed onto his. Sehun’s hipbone is digging into his stomach, but he ignores it in favor of pulling Sehun closer, licking and nipping, until the other gives in. Jongin easily dips his tongue inside, exploring Sehun’s wet cavern. The kiss is too short for Jongin’s liking, but he lets Sehun sit up, not wanting to force the other into anything. He knows that too much pushing will only make Sehun close himself off.

“My Prince,” Sehun says. “I want nothing more than My Prince to right the wrong. Be a good king to this nation. That is all I ask for.”

“How?” Jongin asks.

“Protect the weak, control the strong. Be a good role model. Do not look down on anyone. Every resident of this nation is your countryman, no matter how weak and poor.”

“I will,” Jongin promises, and upon Sehun’s smile, he presses closer, only to be pushed back. Sehun shakes his head.

“My Prince, you cannot touch me before you have right your wrongs. I am not giving you any more hints.”

“Sehun,” Jongin whines, seeing Sehun’s smile. He can’t despise Jongin this much, when his expression is so warm and sweet and Jongin reaches out. His hands are immediately slapped away though, and the prince pouts. Sehun is being unfair. He has no idea what the other means by righting wrongs. He can’t even remember what he has been doing wrong. Wasn’t he nice to Sehun lately?

“I told you, My Prince. No touches, no cuddles, no kisses. Nothing, until you’ve realized what you’ve been doing wrong.”

Jongin nods and sighs, not daring to inch closer even when Sehun has fallen asleep. He respects Sehun.

 

 

Jongin is in a bad mood. Ever since they have talked, their new tradition has stopped. No kiss first thing in the morning and no kiss to say good night either. Sehun curls up on himself on the other side of the bed, kicking, when Jongin scoots closer. Jongdae just laughs at his misery.

“You know, if you weren’t my cousin, I could have you punished for mocking royalty.”

Jongdae just grins wider. “Sehun would punish you with ten more years of frugal life then.”

Jongin frowns, knowing it is true. Sehun hates him showcasing his power as Crown Prince. Sehun expects him to be a martyr, sacrificing everything for his country and his people, be sympathetic with everyone and friendly. It is way too much, but with his husband constantly around, Jongin has developed a habit of thinking of Sehun’s reaction first, before acting. He has become less rash, but that doesn’t mean that in private moments with his closest confidents, his bluntness and stupidity doesn’t show through. Sehun has called it stupidity, saying Jongin is too dumb to realize what righting wrongs means.

“By the way,” Luhan interjects, before the two cousins could start to fight. “Did you apologize to Sehun or why has he allowed you to sleep in the same bed at night?”

Jongin blinks, but then his face lights up and he jumps up to pull Luhan into a hug. She yelps and Jongdae screams, before he feels someone hit his head. Jongin immediately pulls away and runs off, hearing Jongdae swearing at him. It’s like back then, when they were four, five years old, carefree children, spoiled and wild and free. Back then, Jongin remembers now, Jongdae had been his favorite cousin, teaching him soccer and different games. Uncle Junmyeon was his favorite, too, being far more lenient than his own strict father.

Sehun is sitting in bed already, a book in his hands. He doesn’t even bother to look up, nor greet him. Jongin is too elated to pay attention to such details.

“Sehun,” he calls and jumps on the bed, shedding off his carefully crafted royal image. With Sehun, Jongin doesn’t need it. He still thinks he needs to show perfect manners and discipline, despite Sehun trying to make him be more ordinary. Be closer to his people, as Sehun has put it, by being more like a commoner.

Sehun throws him a glare and rolls over to the edge of the bed to put his book away. Jongin does the same, rolling towards Sehun who tries to push him back. Sehun nearly falls over the edge, but Jongin has an arm securely wrapped around the other’s waist. He pulls Sehun close, ignoring the protests turned threats.

“Sehun,” he whispers, lips close to Sehun’s ears. He can feel Sehun stiffen in his hold. For a brief second he wonders what will happen if he is wrong, if an apology is not what Sehun wants.

“Sehunnie, my pretty, precious Sehun. I sincerely apologize for every offending word I ever said to you. I am especially sorry for what I said the first time we met.”

“Okay,” Sehun breathes out.

“Do you forgive me, even if this apology comes ages too late?”

“You are forgiven, My Prince,” Sehun smiles.

“Does that mean I can…?” Jongin looks hopeful and Sehun looks relaxed, body not tensed to run away when he needs to. Still, he doesn’t trust his luck too much. Sehun is full of mischief, a lovely trait he has discovered only recently, although it has left him frustrated often enough. It served him right, Luhan had said. A bratty prince like him needed a sassy counterpart.

“Tomorrow,” Sehun says. “I’m tired.” He yawns as if on cue. Only then does Jongin take a look at the clock. It is unusually late, Jongin having finished with his paperwork early, but spending some time talking to Jongdae and Luhan, initially to catch up with what he has been missing the last few days, but also to see if Luhan is doing fine with her pregnancy. She looks healthier than ever, her pale cheeks a nice shade of rose and her eyes twinkling with excitement whenever one asks about her well-being and her soon to be born child.

“Did you stay up late for me?” Jongin asks, warmth flooding his veins at the thought. Sehun might be denying it, but Jongin knows by looking.

“I did,” Sehun admits surprisingly. “So go take a quick shower and come here, so I can sleep.”

Things are not perfect yet, Jongin thinks as the water is running over his back. But slowly, Jongin and Sehun are finding ways to live with each other. He hasn’t confessed yet, but Jongin feels like it’s time to tell Sehun that it’s not only liking, but love, too. Even if Sehun didn’t love him, he would learn to. Jongin likes to think that Sehun doesn’t say _I love you_ with words, but with his eyes and his actions, and this is just the beginning.

 


End file.
